


Nightmare

by Letthemhateme



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Angst, Corruption, Feels, Fluff, I'm sorry I'm still alive, I've been stuck in wow hell, M/M, Minor Violence, Shipping, Suggestive Themes, blizzard please I'll pay you, it's been so long since I posted, please let them be happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:41:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26373649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Letthemhateme/pseuds/Letthemhateme
Summary: Wrathion has a recurring dream since he saw what lurked within the corrupted vision of Stormwind. Something follows him home.
Relationships: Wrathion/Anduin Wrynn
Comments: 3
Kudos: 31





	Nightmare

The moment Wrathion laid eyes on the throne room, he knew it was a dream. It had to be. It was that same hellish scene he'd witnessed while helping the champion imbue their cloak with greater power, a vision of the possible future, should N'zoth win. Even powerful players in the Alliance had succumbed to the corruption, but worst of all was the horror within the Keep. After his own glimpse, he had refused to let the champion see what was inside. No one should ever see the /thing/ that lurked inside the throne room. He could see more than the champion, since he was little more than a spectre in this vision, and what he saw was enough to scar him. Enough to twist his dreams into nightmares.

There, sprawled across the throne in a manner too casual for his usual self, was the King. Purple shadows curled across his body, his eyes a brilliant gleaming blue. The most horrific thing Wrathion had ever seen, wearing his lover's face and smiling coyly at him from across the room. He refused to believe it was Anduin. There was no way such a beautiful, warm smile could ever be twisted into a smirk like that. Even when Anduin teased him, there was still something /pure/ about him. This thing before him was a mockery of that, golden hair stained with indigo.

"Wrathion, my dear friend..." he purred, rising to his feet. Those words, so mocking, a reference to their prior meeting. "You've arrived at last."

The words caught him off guard, his brows furrowing. Arrived? His dreams had been startlingly real before, but not to this extent. Not to where he could have a realistic conversation with someone. "I know you're not real, so spare me the theatrics." he sighed, desperately trying to remind himself that it was just a dream. "I'm not debating with you—"

"Not real?" Anduin frowned at him, looking almost wounded. But then his expression cleared, understanding flooding those soft features. "Ah, I understand. Haven't you realised yet? You spoke so often of a recurring nightmare, one you refused to believe could ever come true." the King strode forward, raising a hand to touch his fingertips to Wrathion's cheek. "One of a corrupted Stormwind, your beloved King fallen to the Void." he said gently, kindly, only for his smile to turn into a wicked smirk. "It came true! And here you are, facing that reality." he laughed cruelly.

The shadows coiled around him, stretching out from the King to wrap Wrathion in their embrace. "No... No. You will not use your lies to sway me!" he jerked away like he had been burned, his eyes blazing with fury. Fury– and pain.

Anduin gave a soft laugh and waved a hand, thick shadows rising up to cut off his escape. "Oh, Wrathion... You've always been so strong. I've always admired you for that, to be honest. I'm weak, even now. Even filled with this glorious power, I'm still nothing compared to you." he moved to pursue him, his hands rising up to cup his face. That smile, once as bright as sunshine, was now filled with malice. "I've always desired you, you know. From the moment you stepped into my city, I wanted you." he purred, leaning up until his lips brushed the male's ear. "And you've wanted me. I've seen the way you look at me when you think I'm not looking. Dragon or not, you're a beast at heart." he chuckled.

Wrathion recoiled from the touch, the hairs rising on the back of his neck. But there was nowhere to escape. It wasn't reality, he refused to believe that. It was a dream. It had to be. Anduin wouldn't act like this, wouldn't be corrupted so easily. He stiffened as he felt a hand trail down his chest, slipping beneath his shirt. "Enough—" he broke off as the shadows turned into a thousand sharp blades, all aimed at them both. "They'll hit you too..." his expression twisted with confusion, but then he realised. The corruption could be purged — but not from a corpse. If he resisted, Anduin would ensure Wrathion would fall either way.

He sagged, a laugh spilling from Anduin's lips. "You can't bring yourself to hurt me, can you?" he teased. "You could reveal your true form, burn me and tear me apart, all while I scream in agony. You could betray me again... But you can't. Maybe you could've before, but not now." he snickered, pressing up against the dragon. "I know why, even if you haven't realised it yet."

Now that got his interest. Before, he would've killed Anduin himself, even if it meant wrapping his hands around his that slender neck and watching the life leave his eyes. But now he couldn't even bring himself to consider it. Even in a dream, he didn't want to hurt him. Why? Because Anduin was his lover?

"It's because after all the heinous things you've done in the name of good, after betraying me, I still welcomed you back." the King murmured, his breath warm against his ear. "Because after everything you've done, I've never seen you as Deathwing's son, or as a black dragon. I've seen you for who you are. And even though you keep everyone at a distance, you're so desperate for acceptance that you can't kill the one person to truly accept you."

His words struck Wrathion to the core. Was that it? Was that really why? His shoulders slumped slightly, the resistance draining out of him. Whether or not that was the reason, he couldn't harm Anduin — not in a dream, not even if he was this corrupted /thing/.

"Good boy." he said mockingly. "I can give you everything you've ever desired, Wrathion. I can feed your lust — for power, for slaughter... for me..." he murmured, his voice almost sickly sweet. "You and I... we could do great things together. You would never want for anything, ever again. You could even restore the black dragonflight, to the way it should be. You would never again stand in Deathwing's shadow... and I would be at your side." he purred, his hand creeping dangerously lower. "Just you and me, my love..."

That was enough to snap him out of his stupor. This wasn't his Anduin. Dream or not, he knew the real Anduin would trust him to do the right thing, no matter what. Anduin, the Lion King of Stormwind, would always do the right thing. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting the male's hands wander where they pleased. But when he opened his eyes again, they blazed with a furious light. "Anduin... forgive me." he breathed.

The mockery of the King smiled, believing himself to have won. Wrathion would be his, the proud dragon would bow his head to his new master, and N'zoth would be pleased. "Wrathion—" his words faltered, his eyes widening in confusion. Slowly, he looked down, seeing the blade protruding from his chest. Not Xal'atath. A small knife that Wrathion carried, just in case. Blood bubbled on his lips, his face growing pale. "No." he growled, raising his hands. The shadows coiled, ready to spring.

And then Wrathion's hands were around his neck, claws digging into his throat hard enough to draw blood. He didn't want to look, didn't want to see the face Anduin made as his lungs began to burn for air. But he forced himself to watch, to sear the image into his mind. Anduin would never want to be corrupted, and if he lost himself, he would want Wrathion to stop him.

Anduin struggled in his grasp, the shadows writhing around him as he tried to prise the male's hands away from his neck. The old scar of a bitemark across his neck was only half visible from this angle, but Wrathion couldn't look away from it. "Wrathion..." he gasped, his attempts to escape growing weaker and weaker as his blood began to drip down the knife and onto the stones. "Please..." his hands fell limp with that final breath, golden lashes fluttering as his eyes slid closed. The shadows seemed restless, but they gradually began to dissipate, leaving the King gold and beautiful once more. Gold and beautiful... and lifeless.

Wrathion yanked the knife out and tossed it aside before pulling him close, burying his face in his shoulder as he sank to his knees. "Damn you..." he said hoarsely, his voice cracking. "Damn you, Anduin..." he brushed a lock of golden hair back from his face before he leaned close, kissing him softly. For a moment he imagined Anduin stirring as if he'd been asleep, his lips curling into a tired smile before he began to kiss back. But no. His lips tasted of blood, the warmth already fading from his limp body.

He was dimly aware as he gently set the King's body on the stones, folding his hands neatly over his chest. He watched as he staggered out of the Keep, bursting out in his true form. The magnificent black dragon roared in defiance and turned to face the Keep, claws gouging chunks out of the stone. A gout of flame burst from his jaws and roared up the entryway, filling the throne room. The stones began to glow from the heat as anything flammable caught alight, the flames spreading and filling the Keep halls of their own volition. He snapped his jaws shut once he saw the smoke rising from the windows, leaving the flames to finish the job. He turned away, only to come face to face with Anduin.

The blonde was asleep, his head pillowed on his arm. His chest rose and fell slowly with each breath, his other hand comfortably tangled with Wrathion's own. The dragon sat upright, taking in the room. He was in the Keep, in Anduin's quarters to be precise. There was no fire, no smoke — Anduin was still breathing and there was no sign of a wound or any malicious purple shadows. The tension drained from his body at the realisation that it was just a dream, his free hand moving up to brush his hair back from his face. He was sweating.

Anduin stirred beside him, his eyes opening halfway as he looked up at him, visibly confused. "Wrathion... you alright?" he murmured, shifting to prop himself up on his elbow. He gave the dragon's hand a gentle squeeze as the sleep left him, his expression turning sympathetic. "Another nightmare? It's alright. It's just a dream, it's not real." he wrapped an arm around the male, pulling him back down into an embrace. One hand tangled in his hair, his touch soothing. "I love you." he hummed, pressing a sleepy kiss to his throat.

Wrathion let himself relax in the blonde's arms, a heavy sigh escaping him. Just a dream. "It felt real..." he muttered, his heartbeat beginning to slow to a comfortable rate. "One second..." he rolled halfway onto his back, reaching for the shirt he'd slung over the bedside table. His fingers dipped into the carefully concealed pocket, but came back empty. His knife was gone.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been writing short drabbles for these two (and a few other Warcraft characters, both canon and OC) and since I'm an absolute simp for these two, I'm legally obligated to share it. If people are interested, I most post the other drabbles I've written! I just want these two to be happy together okay, so obviously the best solution is a healthy dose of heartbreaking angst lmao


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